


with idle time

by kinpika



Series: signed, sealed, delivered [13]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery
Genre: Future Fic, Just prior to the Yule Ball, Late '94, Working for Durmstrang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 01:22:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19367350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika
Summary: “You studied here, didn’t you, Professor?” Thorn’s turn to speak up, and even though Myshkin had yet to pick himself up, it seemed the group had moved in.“Yes, yes I did.” Although some days it felt like a lifetime ago. At that thought, she felt the telltale itch along her left arm and shoulder, reminding her just that.





	with idle time

“Bow. _Bow_ , Myshkin, be polite. Wands ready.”

With a wave of her wand, signalling the start, the two students in the middle of the ring began. Careful footwork, moving around in the outlined circle, judging each other. Until there’s a flick from Vanhanen, and Myshkin returns jets of red in quick succession. A number of slashes in the air, as they’re deflected back, running into the wall of the circle that had been set up. 

“Watch your foot, Vanhanen, Myshkin knows that you favour your right. No, _do not aim for the head_ , we aren’t trying to kill each other out here. Wave your _wand_ , Myshkin, or the spell is useless. Flopping your elbow does nothing.”

Natasha keeps her arms behind her back, careful and loose, as she continues to walk. Not quite the level of what they would be doing back at their own castle, but it had to make do in the free time they had. Karkaroff had buggered off again, leaving her and his aide, Bayer, to handle the education. Really, this was more for her own benefit, instead of pouring over books and trying to translate into at least six separate languages, just to make sure information got across.

At the top of the hill, she noticed more than a few students pausing to watch. A number from Hogwarts alone, but with the odd Beauxbatons amongst them. Well, she could’ve kept her students confined to the ship, like Karkaroff had ordered. _Or_ , she could’ve ignored him entirely, and given the students some breathing room. The bank of the Black Lake was a perfect location, with the weather being remarkably tolerable compared to where Durmstrang sat.

Those who were waiting their turn to duel were sitting on the grass. Idle, staring out over the great lake, or huddled together over some homework from the previous night. Natasha did notice that some had taken to practicing wandwork at ground, leaving a variety of scorch marks here and there. Krum was not among them, which wasn’t unusual. Given leave to work on things for the tournament. She would have to remember to go over a charm or two with him later, as the First Task had passed by with sheer luck alone.

“Professor, can we go into the castle today?” Lindholm speaks up, on her third trip around the ring. Almost didn’t hear him, as she was busy telling Myshkin off about his elbow yet again.

“Sorry, Lindholm, what was that?”

His question had sparked the attention of a few others, looking up at her rather starry eyed. “I was wondering if we could go into the castle today.”

Blinks, and she misses just how Vanhanen managed to flick Myshkin on his back. “Of course. You’re allowed to go inside whenever you have free time. Dumbledore said to make yourselves at home.”

A look of discomfort passes over all their faces, and she takes a quick moment to remind Vanhanen to bow this time, even if she had won. Despite just how they presented themselves, Natasha always found herself forgetting that she was dealing with teenagers. Awkward teenagers, who were actually enjoying their time away from Durmstrang and Karkaroff’s overpowering presence. Seeing the sun for once also made a difference in their attitudes.

Holding her wand out to the shimmering circle, with the light slowly returning to the tip, she speaks up again. “Let me know when and where, and we can go in a group, if you wish.” Perhaps that would abate some of their anxiety. The few that had gone off alone to explore had come back with a variety of stories, of trick stairs, talking portraits and friendly ghosts. Not so different from their own castle, but Natasha knew Hogwarts felt _lighter_. Something about Durmstrang was heavy, and it might’ve been down to just how instruction worked.

“You studied here, didn’t you, Professor?” Thorn’s turn to speak up, and even though Myshkin had yet to pick himself up, it seemed the group had moved in.

“Yes, yes I did.” Although some days it felt like a lifetime ago. At that thought, she felt the telltale itch along her left arm and shoulder, reminding her just that.

And there it was again. The fascination. Fleeting looks up to Hogwarts, and back at her. Natasha could almost see how the need for martial training all but faded from their minds, and that she was to be left with eleven students not in any mood to work. It wouldn’t be the last time, as much as Karkaroff insisted. Teenagers with a ball looming around the corner, crossing borders to witness an international tournament? It was a feat alone that they had managed to get through as much of the coursework as they had in the last few months alone.

With a sigh, Natasha pulls her hair up higher. “Fine, fine. Get your cloaks - the _light_ ones, Wyrzykowski, before you ask - and we’ll go for a walk. If Karkaroff asks, we duelled all afternoon until your fingers bled.”

All at once, the students rush to their feet. Excitement colours their tones, and as they make their way back to the ship, languages struggle over each other. Natasha gave up trying to keep up, happy to walk with behind, hands clasped at her back, only calling out to remind them _not to shove_. 

Only when she’s about to step onto the ship, does Natasha turn to face the castle. So strange, that she could look back at Hogwarts, and not feel that longing for home anymore. Almost like it was a hollow thought, where it didn’t matter anymore. But moping would have to wait for another day, where there’s a shout, and a series of curses distinctly in Finnish, and she has to roll her eyes.


End file.
